


Tigers and Songbirds

by TobinTycane



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alicia Clark - Freeform, F/F, Horror, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Lesbain, OC, POV Alicia, Romance, Survivial, Zombies, f/f - Freeform, fear the walking dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:31:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobinTycane/pseuds/TobinTycane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's months after the events in Mexico, and the Clark family has been spread to the wind, separated through desperate circumstance. Alicia finds herself in the company of a new group of survivors. Secrets and half truths seem to be the norm, and things have felt off since day one. She starts to wonder if maybe she'd be better off on her own, especially when it becomes clear this group is being stalked by a mysterious woman who seems intent on bringing them ruin. But maybe this figure isn't all that she seems. Maybe she's the best chance Alicia has at truly finding her family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tigers and Songbirds

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter, new story. A few things to note: Chapters will be from different POV's, those POV's sometimes overlapping in dialogue heavy chapters. The chapters will not always be in chronological order. I will try to make the time shifts as coherent as possible. I fully intend for there to be F/F romance and sex scenes in this story, so if you're into that keep your fingers crossed I have time to update regularly. Last but not least, bear with me, I am new to this. I fully expect my writing style will not be for everyone, and that is okay. I would appreciate any and all constructive or critical criticisms anyone has. Enjoy :)

It was hot. Completely expected, being on the outskirts of the Mojave, but after six hours on her stomach with her rifle positioned out of a hole she made with her foot in the wall of the abandoned Super 8, she’s surprised she hasn’t melted into the floor. Logan can feel her upper cheek sticking to the stock of the gun, her index finger twitching idly above the trigger. Six hours and months of planning, set up and ambushes, but it would all be over soon. Six hours and she’s never taken her eyes off of the base about five hundred meters ahead of her, slapped together around the remnants of a large bank. By now she’s completely tuned out the moaning and groaning of the walkers locked down stairs, but she’s struggling to keep her mind from racing. Not a moment later and she sees it; the Humvee she’s been expecting, driving up to the gate at the base ahead. She adjusts herself subtly on the floor and takes a deep breath through her nose, her exhale hot against the shemagh wrapped around her mouth.

“Both eyes open, deep breath, hold your breath on the exhale, then fire. Both eyes open, deep breath, hold your breath on the exhale, then fire…”

  
She repeats the words in her mind, waiting as the makeshift gates close behind the car. “This is it. Just end him. You end him and the rest of them will fall apart.”

  
She sees people shuffling out of the van, blood soaked, tired and obviously exasperated. She can’t hear them from this far away, but she doesn’t need to. Her plan worked. Lead them to a place they think is promising for supplies, make them think it was their idea, but the booby traps and walkers clearly were the last straw. Divide and conquer. He was losing his grip on his men. They’re tired of being haunted by this unknown enemy who keeps setting them up for disaster, and his inability to deal with it.

  
“Both eyes open, both eyes open, both…”

  
There he is. Blake fucking Miller, standing there arguing with his second in command, Nate. They’re screaming at each other, but she still doesn’t have a shot. “Come on you fuck…” She waits, and sure enough they move, getting right where she wants them in the open space in front of the bank. She can feel the blood pumping in her ears, her body tense as she tightens her hold on the grip of the gun. Finally, there he is, right in the middle of her scope. She has to remind herself to breathe, deep slow breaths, finally moving her finger over the trigger.

  
“Both eyes open…Deep breath…” She inhales deep through her nose, exhales slow through her mouth, holds her breath. “Fire.” She doesn’t even hear the round go off, but she feels the recoil into her shoulder as she watches through the scope. It’s as if time slows, and she watches with the most anticipation she’s ever felt, waiting to see that sickly satisfying red mist out of the back of his head…But he turns his back at the last second, his second in command charges him in anger, and the red mist she sees isn’t from Blake. She hit the wrong fucking guy, and now Nate’s brains are all over the back of Blake’s shirt.

  
“No…”

  
She sees everyone turn around with shock and immediately take cover. “Fucking shit, NO!” She pulls the bolt back on her rifle to reload, the hot brass pinging against the wall as it flies free. She’s losing her composure fast and she knows it, but it’s hard to try and relax when the guy she’s been working so hard to take out just got so fucking lucky. By the time she takes aim again, he’s behind cover, and she has no idea where. She takes a couple more shots at his men behind their cover as they shoot aimlessly over the makeshift walls, hoping to drive him out into the open. This clusterfuck of a firefight goes on for what feels like forever but must have only been a few seconds before she pauses. She sees him, waving his arms and shouting, trying to get his men to cease firing, since they can’t see her. She’s not going to let him slip past this time, not after everything he’s done. Both eyes open, she tenses up, takes a breath and exhales…

  
She’s about to fire until she sees her, right in the middle of her sights. Logan takes a shocked shaky breath, her finger twitching off of the trigger just in time. It’s the girl she saw weeks before, standing there on the wall with her arms spread wide, wavy light brown hair barely moving in the subtle breeze outside. What the fuck is she doing? She’s shouting something Logan can’t hear, but her face looks pleading. "Is she trying to stop me? Why is she defending this monster? How can she not know about him? She’s covered in blood like the others; does that mean they took her on the supply run with them? Why would they have done that?"

  
She has too many questions, her mind is all over the place, and she’s so distracted by this girl placing herself directly in harm’s way to save a mad man she doesn’t notice the other men outside of the range of her scope moving something off of the back of the Humvee. She only notices it when she sees the girl on the wall turn and shout something at them, but it’s too late. Logan’s seen enough History channel documentaries in her life to know that’s a mortar cannon, and they just fired off a round.

  
“Shit. Shit fuck damn. Where the fuck did they get a-“ she pulls back from the wall in a desperate rush, grabbing her rifle and getting to her feet to haul her backpack on over one shoulders as she moves to run into the bathroom of the hotel room. The ominous whistle of the shell as it gets closer gets louder and louder until she hears the explosion outside of the hotel, the blast making the whole building shake. Logan loses her balance, falling against the side of the bathtub with a grunt. She knows that’s probably not the last round they have, and it’s obvious they know she’s in this building. She lets loose another string of curses as the bathroom window won’t open, so she has to bash out the frame with the butt of her rifle, tossing her bag through before she crawls through. When she mapped out her original escape route, she wasn’t planning on trying to escape explosions, so this obviously complicates things. Her bag is on top of a car three stories down, and she’s hanging off of the world’s smallest and most useless faux balcony, and the second and first floor of the hotel are crawling with walkers. Her only option at this point is a palm tree about six feet to her left, so she hops on top of the railing and jumps for the tree, just in time for the second mortar shell to come barreling down and exploding on what sounds like right above the lobby of the hotel. She can feel the shock of the blast immediately, the whole building shaking and creaking unhappily from the damage, all of the windows in the building exploding and making glass fly in every direction as she slides down the palm tree going way too fast. The bark is thoroughly fucking up her hands, so she’s forced to let go a little sooner than she would have liked, landing feet first on top of the car with her bag, rolling off of the back window onto her side on the parking lot with a thud

  
She groans and rolls onto her back on the hot asphalt, taking a second to compose herself. She pants for breath and stares up at the sky, trying to replay everything that just happened in her mind. How could she have fucked up that shot? After everything she went through. Where did they get a God damn mortar canon? She’s so mad that at this point she doesn’t care if the next mortar round lands right between her eyes, but a third round never comes. They must have been satisfied with the second shot. She knows Blake though, he will definitely send people out to scout out the building and check for her, and so she can’t stay on her back like this forever.

  
For the first time in hours, she’s finally aware of the moaning from all of the walkers in the hotel. She turns her head to the right and can see the devastation from the explosion in the lobby through some blown out windows, the walkers shambling out of the big hole that is now the front of the building into the street, a few of them from the second story falling down onto the first, making a big writhing pile of charred bodies. She’s been so busy for so long fighting other living people that sometimes she forgets about this new horror that’s a way of life for her now. She manages to get up to her feet, pulling her backpack off of the car and she makes her across the parking lot using the cars as cover until she can slip away behind the cover of the nearby buildings. She still had too many new questions that needed answering, and she knows exactly who to ask now. It’s only a matter of how she can get to her...


End file.
